The Little Grave (Detective Amanda Steele)

She shut her mouth; she couldn’t bring herself to tell her dad that things at work hadn’t been the same as before the accident.

“But you’re not going to back off, are you?” Her father peered into her eyes.

“How can I? Jensen’s threatened you.”

Her father batted his hand. “I can look after myself.”

She thought of Trent’s little words of wisdom and how the strong have weak moments. “You just need to be careful, but know that I’m going to do whatever I can—”

“To get that man justice?” Her father shot to his feet. “The same man who—” He snarled and balled his hands into fists.

Amanda put a hand on his back to cool him down. “I know. But you heard what Mom just said: Steeles keep their word.”

He tightened his jaw and nodded. “But why you ever got yourself wrapped up in this in the first place, Mandy, I’ll never understand.”

“I just felt I needed to at the time. And, trust me, it’s probably a good thing I did insert myself.”

Her father’s gaze met hers, and she continued. “There’s little girls, Dad. Palmer was booked with a bracelet and there was a hidden data chip on there— Oh, whatever you do, don’t say a word of this to Malone. He doesn’t know yet. But there’s evidence of a sex-trafficking ring.”

“An active one here?” Her father dropped back into his chair, his complexion pale. Nothing much shook her father, but it was obvious this news had.

“I assume it’s still active. I don’t really know, but I intend to find out and to help those girls.”

“And to slam the doors on everyone involved.”

“Goes without saying.” She jacked a thumb toward the front door. “I should get going.”

Her father sprang up again, pulled her in for a hug, and tapped a kiss on her forehead. “I have absolute faith in you.”

She sniffled and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

She saw herself out with another hug of her mother. She’d considered going back to her parents over the years, but the longer time had dragged on, the harder the thought of actually doing it was, but now that first step was out of the way.

All it had taken was a threat to her father’s life.

Thirty-One

After leaving her parents’ house, she didn’t feel much like talking at all. It had been unsettling seeing her mom and dad again, like she belonged but at the same time was a stranger. But she’d go back—she had promised her mother—maybe give a reconnection a true chance. Trent got onto highway SR 234 north. “So where are we going? You never said before and I didn’t ask.”

“The Department of Forensic Science.”

“Manassas? And you do realize their regular hours are eight to five Monday to Friday?” The dash read 8:45 PM.

Trent looked over at her. “Sure, but everything that’s connected to the Palmer case is to be given priority attention.”

She slowly nodded, remembering Malone had told her that. A twinge crept up into her skull with the action. “Who’s going to be there?” She wasn’t sure she had the tolerance threshold to put up with CSI Blair tonight.

“Blair and Donnelly.”

She blew out a deep breath, and Trent laughed.

“I know she’s not your favorite person.”

“Is she anyone’s?” Amanda tapped her fingers on the armrest in the door. “I don’t know what her problem is with me.”

She let that sit there, but Trent didn’t offer any suggestions. She might never find out Blair’s issue, but she wasn’t exactly feeling like coming out and asking.

She went on. “At least she’s putting in OT for— Oh, does she know I’m off the case?”